The Yellow Man Waits

More about The Yellow Man Waits

The yellow man waits
not because he is patient
but because waiting is the only shape left to him

He is not illuminated
he is illumination misfiled
light that forgot what it was meant to reveal

Behind him the room continues its small errands
glass reflects glass
wood holds up wood
someone passes with a cup and a purpose
none of it sticks

The yellow has erased the idea of a face
no mouth to argue with time
no eyes to bargain with the future
only a smooth insistence
as if the sun tried to become a person
and stopped halfway

He waits under beams and ledges
under the soft bureaucracy of architecture
posts pretending to be trees
windows pretending to be exits
everything pretending it knows what it’s for

The yellow man does not move
because movement would imply direction
and direction would imply belief

He waits the way dust waits
the way a forgotten coat waits
the way a fence post waits when you remove a no trespassing sign
and it keeps waiting anyway

People pass through him without noticing
their reflections briefly contaminated
a hint of warmth where there should be none
then gone

He is not a warning
he is not a symbol
he is what happens when visibility outruns meaning

The yellow man waits
for the room to admit it needs him
for light to remember why it entered
for someone to stand still long enough
to realize the waiting is contagious

And until then
he holds the color in place
so it does not spill
so it does not explain itself
so it remains
waiting